Universal Masses
by LeShyWolf
Summary: When a freaky, strikingly realistic version of Javik burns an incoherent vision in my brain, the next thing I know I'm on Omega and my life is a hectic whirlwind of aliens, I'm sinking neck-deep in trouble. Not to mention my hobby is now running away from angry krogans. How will I survive? Self-insert.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Universal Masses**

**Summary: When a freaky, strikingly realistic statue of Javik comes to life and burns an incoherent vision in my brain, the next thing I know my life is a hectic whirlwind of aliens, I'm sinking neck-deep in trouble and my hobby is now running away from angry krogans. Self-insert.**

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I'm excited.

The boy in front of me looks ready to faint. His wide, gleeful green eyes are staring at the entrance to the _huge_ new shop, his slender fingers clenching tightly on his fancy N7 shoulder bag that I instantly wish I have. He's sweating and grinning so widely it looks like it actually hurts. Even though I'm a little bit creeped out by this I make no comment, hey, he can pull whatever face he likes, I'm not judging. I'm trying not to pull the same expression myself, to be honest...

I can hear the gossiping, happy shoppers in the background of the big mass of giddy, chatting people. They all look ready to run up the walls of the gigantic place, I might join them in their horde while doing an impression of the dragonborn in my eagerness. Granted, this is not the most important thing in the world but this is a great day since I have a ton of saved up money in my purse and I'm ready to throw it at people selling the cool shit.

I start bouncing on the balls of my feet as I fidget and play with the hem of my zipped up hoodie. Today, here in London, is a new opening for a huge shop. I'm in the line, waiting. The stuff is consisting of anything and everything to do with Mass Effect. Gun replicas, realistic size ship models with tours, incredibly awesome cosplay, weird holograms, you name it.

My heart is racing in my chest, I honestly can't wait. As soon as those doors open I'm going to zoom passed everyone else. That's if the geeky looking boy in front of me doesn't get there first, though he doesn't look like the fast runner type... he doesn't look like he exercises much. He looks more like he probably spends most of his spare time playing chess or a _Dungeons and Dragons _board game...

The air is suddenly thick with anticipation and suspense as the doors above the entrance on a balcony open with an echoing thud, silencing the people. The silhouette of a man is walking out when a spot light illuminates him. He stands there, gaze scanning over us. For a moment, my heart skips a beat when our eyes briefly lock. He has piercing, cold and red contacts, almost lighting up behind the thin material like they're really synthetic. He smiles charmingly, white teeth almost baring threateningly at me. A small shiver rips through me as a feeling of unease prickles the back of my neck and raises goosebumps. I shrug it off as the cold, it is winter after all.

"Ladies and gentleman!" He greets then takes a pause, arms open as if to hug us all. Unlikely, unless he's Mr. Fantastic. Well, he has the same intellectual kind of air as Dr. Reed except less superhero vibes and more a villain persona, but still... "Welcome... to _Universal!_" Cheers siren at his words. Despite myself, I try to be one of the loudest. "I hope you all enjoy yourselves, and have a lot of money because we all know you're going to want to buy _everything_."

There's chuckles in the crowd before he takes another step forward, opening his arms again but this time it's in syn with the doors as they also spread open. "Girls and boys! Madams and sirs! Stay in your line, go on in and _buy your tickets!"_

The massive group of fanboys and fangirls forms like a swarm of bees as they lunge inside, I'm swimming through the people. It's almost chaotic but eventually crowd control kicks in and security guards separate us into different cues. When I pay for my ticket, the nice lady dressed as an asari stamps my hand and I nearly skip happily to the main hall.

Glancing below my knuckles, I see a light blue logo of the new Universal store. The imprint of a picture with a mass relay, tiny letters crediting Bioware on the left, and the almost smudging, soft, blue trail of the _Normandy_ ship going through the mass relay, behind it saying '_Universal_'. It's cool and I want to savor this moment. I pop off the lens cap, placing it safely in my camera bag, from my Canon and snap a shot.

Excellent.

Grinning, I venture forth.

The expression of happiness is wiped from my face as someone roughly knocks their shoulder into me and I stumble forward to fall on the ground with a splutter of surprise. _What an arseh_o-

Stopping mid-thought as I look up, I see that they dropped something while in such a rush (_not_ apologising, may I add) and blink in befuddlement. It looks like something to do with Mass Effect and considering where I am, that's not a surprise. The object is metal and circular with a few glowing, purple and blue lights around the outer edge. In the middle, there's one weird green light. A weird prickling at the back of my neck urges me to pick it up. So I reach out and take the cool looking device thing.

Standing up, I conflict with if I should keep it or give it back to the person who apparently descends from elephants. With a sigh at my conscience and morals, I turn towards where the person ran too and saw a door, left open slightly. It says '_Staff only_' and I purse my lips in doubt before slowly walking away. Maybe I should just keep it...

No, I'll go to the counter like any normal, good Samaritan. Not to believe I'm a saint, but shit I'm no devil in disguise either. I'm just an ordinary teenager with stupid morals that wants to get on with my life and buy all this amazing stuff in this _awesome_ shop.

Taking the object, I march my way to the reception so I can leave this on the counter for the annoying dick to come pick it up from lost property. There's not a lot of people lining up so I stand there tapping my foot impatiently and eagerly wanting to leave. If I don't do this now, I won't want to do it later because by the time I'm done with this place it will be shut.

It feels like forever when I finally get to the desk. A satisfied smile slides onto my face as I open my mouth, only for the receptionist to put up a sign which makes my heart sink in disappointment. **Closed. Back in Half an hour.** It has a smiley face underneath it and I gently bash my knuckles on the glass with annoyance flaring inside of me. The man in a cool quarian suit looks up and shakes his head, pointing to the break sign.

"Can you at least take-"

"Kid, I haven't had anything to eat since last night, gimmie a break." He snaps at me as I look at him with an affronted look upon my features. _Kid_? Do I look like a _child_ to him?

"I'm not a _child_." He's pissed me off a little now, just glancing at his face also does the trick to bubble some anger. He looks like some dog has just taken a dump on his shoe and with the way he's glaring at me, I'm the dog. "And I just want to-"

"Come back in half an hour." He sneers, rudely shutting the metal blinds of the reception. My cheeks heat up as I become flustered and frustration boils inside of me.

Clenching my hands, I inhale deeply and exhale before leaving with determination flaming in my chest. _Fine_. He doesn't want to help me. I'll do it myself. God knows where this is going to take me. I just hope I manage to buy something before they haul me out kicking and screaming... on the other hand maybe my 'escort' out will not be so dramatic and I'll go with dignity...

Shaking my head in disbelief as I start to walk towards where I know trouble will get me, I figure I can just explain myself truthfully. I'm not doing anything wrong anyway, I'm just a good person trying to return something to a douchebag that has no manners or issues about knocking down an innocent bystander to the floor with no regrets.

This is what I tell myself anyway.

Glancing around in paranoia as I open the door even more, I slip in unnoticed and hope I'm not on a security camera even though that concept seems unlikely. Oh god, I'm gonna be in so much trouble when I get spotted by the guards. Even kicked out for trespassing. _Trespassing._ Why am I trespassing for someone _I don't even know_?

Oh yeah, because I'm a damn naive idiot with morals... Okay, relax man. You have this. It'll be even easier than stealing candy from a baby... Not that I actually would do that. I'm a moron with morals, not an evil douchebag.

Like I've said, I'll just explain that I'm trying to return property to the rightful owner.

Even if they are a stampeding _dick_.

I turn right into another corridor, feeling a little lost as I look around. I also glance over my shoulder every now and then, anxious that someone will see me in an area that I don't belong in. I might as well have a god damn sign with flickering lights above my head that says, "**Intruder**".

I have to admit, I'm surprised that literally just waltzing in here doesn't trigger some kind of alarm. You'd think they would have a lot better security, being a new shop with a ton of cool stuff that's worth stealing- _Ahem_, you didn't hear that from me.

A whoosh of a shadow in the corner of my eye cuts off my inner conversation. I spin around. No one is there. But I cautiously make my way towards that direction, pressing my lips together nervously. My hair sways behind me as I start to jog down another corridor, getting edgy.

The same thing happens again and keeps happening, the endless cycle continues almost insistently. I feel like Alice as I keep chasing what seems to be the equivalent to the late rabbit, only I hope I don't get offered tea. I seem to be one of the only English person that _doesn't_ really drink it. To think I've broken the classic, popular stereotype.

Panting for breath as I finally reach the end of one hallway, I stand up straight from doubling over and leaning my hands on my knees. My narrowing eyes examine the slightly open door suspiciously but I sigh once again, I'm too far deep now to stop, might as well open more doors apparently out of my access level. Here goes...

Lightly placing my palm on the metal surface, I push it open with a groan and step inside. The room is pitch black. Fear pierces my insides as I feel for a light switch on the left side of the wall before trying to find one of the other side but when the door opens a certain amount, then a sudden blinding light burns into my eyes.

Blinking as my vision adjusts through the bright shine of the light, I finally notice this whole room. It's circular, very tall, very spacious. The source of orange light being little glass orbs indented into the golden walls. But what catches my attention is what's in the center of the whole room.

A metal prothean statue.

Breath catching in my throat, I slowly approach it while staring in awe with wide, eyes. It stands taller than my five six. The prothean looks to be in a defeated kind of position. His thick, layered carapace is bowing down with his head. It's coloured in a pale blue colour, splattered with tiny yellow spots. The two pairs of eyes he has are shut tightly, his three sets of nostrils almost flaring. His weird hands are clenching, I notice that he has the typical three fingers a prothean has. His feet have two-widely-spaced twos. It's certainly strange but beautiful.

It looks kind of like Javik in a way, but who am I to know? All protheans look the same to-

Interrupting my musing thoughts, the device in my hand glows brightly all of a sudden as I get close to the statue and my eyes grow even bigger, I'm genuinely surprised and nearly concerned that my eyeballs haven't fallen out of their sockets yet. It's a horrifying mental image, maybe I shouldn't think abo-

His head sharply snaps up, his two pairs of eyes beaming a glowing golden colour as they piercingly stare into my absolutely baffled gaze. I fall back with a startled cry of shock, fumbling onto the ground as I look back up at him with a gaping mouth. My face is probably the mixture of immense surprise, confusion and distress. It looks so eerie and real... terrifyingly so.

"What the fuck-?!" I finally shriek in disbelief, my voice reverberating off the golden walls in the empty, spacious room. Well, at least I know where to go when I want to build a bat cave, this place is fancy and _humongous_.

Getting back to the present and away from my random train of thought:

An _alive_ non-fictional prothean is in front of me.

It apparently gets better.

The statue _speaks_.

Not in any language I understand. Shit, I'm human. Of course I can't fathom a word he's saying. I'm also evidently insane and have formed another reality inside of my mind where it can be lucid. Unless I'm dreaming, the shop itself seems to be from a dream that I'd have. That, if I'm honest, is the most likely...

Then it gets _worse_.

It _moves_.

Towards _me_.

Holy shit.

My hands are trembling, my body shaking in fear as I stay in the same spot. I'm petrified to the point where the blood in my veins is frozen, it's made _me_ the statue instead. It's like we've swapped roles. The hairs on my arms raise, the back of my neck sharply prickles as apprehension crawls across like a hairy spider. A shudder rips through me, waking me from my shocked trance. Holy shit. He's still coming towards me. I need to run. I need to stand up. _Move! God dammit!_

I snap out of my reverie and start crawling backwards, all while dropping the forgotten object that has lead me here in the first place, as I try to fumble to my feet. Scrambling and tripping, I run to the door only to realize I'm locked in here. Horror tears into me. He stiffly walks forward, one step at a time his footsteps becoming more fluid.

My fist is thrown out in a last minute attempt to defend myself but he effortlessly blocks it, grabbing a hold of my wrist and violently yanking me forward so hard I fall to my knees with a yell of pain. His hand on me is like iron- fuck it _is_ literally an iron grip. It burns the tighter he clenches his metal grasp. Ow. Ow. Ow. Shit. Shit. _Shit_.

Tears overflow in my eyes despite how much I don't want them there. He forces my arm behind my back in a strong hold and I swat pathetically at him with my other arm, only for that to be restrained too. My head is being unwillingly tilted up and a deep unnerving feeling of unease claws in the pit of my churning stomach. Holy. Shit.

His shining, harsh orange eyes are intense as they burn into mine. His maw opens widely, light gleaming out of his mouth. A flash of blurry images plays in my eyes but it's too difficult to concentrate on them right now. My brain is on fire and the electric blazes and rushes through my blood. My body begins to thrash. I realize that a high pitched pained shriek is dragging in the air, echoing like in a cave.

I fall face down on the cold, hard ground as my vision starts to cloud with black stars. More pain exploding in my head as a fog starts to flood through my mind and I then register where the scream coming from. My throat becomes hoarse and hot with pain.

It's me.

It's me who was screaming.

An unfamiliar language speaks to my mind coldly as my eyes droop heavily. The last thing I see is the device faintly glowing from across the room.

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**~E**


	2. Chapter 2

**~Universal Masses~**

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**Summary: When a freaky, strikingly realistic statue of Javik comes to life and burns an incoherent vision in my brain, the next thing I know my life is a hectic whirlwind of aliens, I'm sinking neck-deep in trouble and my hobby is now running away from angry krogans. Self-insert.**

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Cold. Hard. Wet.

That's what I first notice when I finally wake up. A blanket of cool air engulfing me and raising goose bumps on my arms. My face is pressing up against a solid, disgusting smelling surface that feels icy and damp. The slender fingers of my hand twitch and clench as I turn my head slightly to the side. I release a hoarse groan while I reach up to my face and it glides across something that feels wet, like a puddle. What the hell?

Opening my heavy lids, the first thing I see almost sends me back recoiling. I shoot up and crawl back, my wide eyed gaze looks on in front of me with shock. Surprise runs through my veins and I don't do anything except stare. Some kind of animal sitting there in front of me, titling his head in my direction. Hell, I don't know the gender and damn, I'm not checking either...

Something nags me in the back of my mind that it's kind looks slightly familiar and I conclude that I've probably seen it on google or just somewhere on the world wide web. The internet has some crazy shit on there, especially when you venture further in unfamiliar territory. When you start seeing the weird crap, that's when you know to press the little red 'x' on the top right corner of your screen and go out for a nice calm walk or something. We've all done it.

It picks up a strange looking piece of junk by it's leg and skitters off as soon as I blink. I don't move until it's gone. Then I raise my hand and wipe my palm across my right cheek, bringing it up to the red glowing light coming from above on the wall to see it better. It's a weird mix of a pale green and bright yellow. Confused I bring it up to my nose and immediately recoil with a strong gag. _Pee_. It's the damn smell of _pee_. Did that animal take a piss on me while I was unconscious the floor? Ew! Ew! Ew! _That nasty_ _son of a bitch!_

Shuddering in complete revulsion and as quickly as I can, I do the best I can to wipe the horrible liquid off my face but the smell lingers. My features twist into a grimace but as soon as I look around my body freezes like I'm suddenly an ice statue. Realization slowly dawns on me as I understand that I'm definitely no longer in the _Universal_ shop or in the same room as that... _thing_...

I recognize the area to be some kind of alleyway. The only thing allowing me to see, illuminating the metal walls is a dim, low crimson glow from the circular small lights on the ceiling. On either side of the walls, which are generally dry and coated in grime. The ground beneath me feels a little chipped, with rubbish lying around every few meters or so. A couple bins are overturned, their contents splattering all around, where the same creatures which has pissed over me were swarming all over, fighting over scraps.

And like I have mentioned before, it smells like absolute shit. This is the type of place you'll find slums which are roaming with sick homeless people, spreading their illness and filth like the plague. One thing is for sure: wherever this is, it's disgusting.

I gain an almost painful, throbbing sensation in my temple the longer I stop and stare at my surroundings. I blanch at the turn of events. I woke up with a serene smile on my lips this morning and now there's a concerned frown. This started as a great day but it's quickly taking a violent swerve down the dark, dirty drain. Almost in a literal sense. Isn't this just so damn peachy? I'm in the middle of an unfamiliar alleyway with weird metal walls, with big and skinny looking rats all over the place.

Another of those vermin run across my path and the nerves on my body jump from fright as I take a step back with a shout of surprise. They almost remind me of the pyjak from a cool video game back home, but the idea that they're actually real is just ridiculous. As much as they look like the space monkeys, they aren't. It's impossible.

No longer bothering to continue musing over what species the little rodents are, I figure that just standing there and throwing guesses around to what happened in _that_ room is going to get me no where and move one foot in front. Then another. And another. Then the cycle continues until I'm walking through the horrible mess of these slums. The gazes of the 'pyjak' looking creatures snap up to me before cowardly sprinting away into the dark corners of the area. They're harmless, right, good to know.

The longer I venture further down the eerie alleyway, the more uneasy I feel in the pit of my stomach. The anxious churning and twisting in my chest causes me to glance over my shoulder in paranoia like something is going to jump out at me. It has that horror movie vibe. God knows what's down here, I just hope it isn't the gigantic parents of those stupid rat-monkey-vermin. If they can be babies, I hate to see what their guardians look like and how big they are...

When it finally looks like I'm getting somewhere, I step out into the lighter area of the foul streets. It seems pretty empty with the exception of some homeless people and t- my breath catches as I turn my head to the right. My heart skipping a beat as alarm and fear flares inside of me. Holy _shit_.

Leaning up against the wall is a very familiar looking specimen. His straight, yellow stained teeth are incredibly razor-sharp and intimidating looking. The round bright crimson balls piercing in their penetrating gaze as their small jet black pupils snap towards me. As my startled eyes flicker across it's rather long and gaunt blue face and trail the obvious, ugly red veins sticking out of it's pale yellow skin. The skin itself looks like it's stretching, almost like rubber. He looks terrifying and kind of grotesque.

Not to mention incredibly _real_.

Holy shit. What did that prothean thing _do_ to me?

"_Go away human!_" The immensely, annoyed and aggressive growl in the vorcha's words spike more fear inside me. I stammer and like the cowardice vermin back in the alleyway, I solve this problem by scattering ASAP and sprinting as fast as I can. And if you ask me, I'm quite a quick runner. I always have been since I was a little girl.

My heart races as I spot more and more of these dangerous vorcha, homeless humans, anti-social looking batarians, some turians. I gasp and pant, hair whipping behind my face as I keep running until I see another alleyway. I get behind a wall and slam my back almost painfully on the metal material. Heavily breathing, I struggle to catch my breath as it tightly squeezes in and out of my dry lips. My blood is rushing with adrenaline and terror. The muscles in my legs are aching slightly from the amount I have just ran.

I can't believe my eyes. What I have just seen isn't meant to be real. This whole place is supposed to be _fictional_. This is impossible, this whole thing. Where I am. How I got here- fuck I don't even know _how_ I got here. I mean- just _shit_. The vorcha are a hell of a lot scarier face-to-face than playing as a third-person Shepard on a TV screen. That's for definite...

When I eventually calm down, not all the way, granted, I manage to realize that I'm definitely not on a good place to be. Omega. _Why Omega_? The lawless haven for all terrorists to do what they please without consequences. Of all places to find myself on, this is got to be one of the worst in history. What I need is a ticket off this hell hole, from there I don't know where to go but I just need to get out of here...

I also don't know where the ticket station actually is. I figure where the docking bay is, but I don't even know how to get _there_. So I peek out from behind the wall, yup the aliens are definitely still there, before I briefly decide that a girl running from something must be a common thing here. There's a batarian talking with a salarian, the latter seems more friendly but I don't want to go over there where the batarian is. Plus I can't really judge a book based on it's cover.

There's a krogan over by the side and I instantly cross him off the list. Unless I want my head split open like a mushed melon, there's no way I'm even glancing at him. God. _Fuck_ that.

I'm also swearing a lot lately. I can't help it. I'm freaking the fudge out. I swear a lot when I'm stressed or if I've hurt myself. Always have done it, ever since I turned sixteen.

Ah, there's a human woman. But I'm not going to be xenophobic and just assume they're not gonna hurt me because they're my own species. She also looks sick with something... Yeah, I'm not going to be ill _and_ stuck on Omega. No thanks...

A turian. Naturally very tall, as his race is. He looks to be an authoritative figure, standing prideful and almost friendly. He even smiles at an innocent bystander and I mistake it as warm until my eyes spot the futuristic pistol in his holster around his hips. My heart skips a beat. Christ. I'm not taking my chances with him either.

As I keep scanning, I see yet another turian leaning on the wall. The plate looking texture of his avian face is coated in black, smoothly contrasting with his white markings. It looks something a tribal warrior would have. A brief, savage image of him standing over a corpse and holding a spear in the air flickers in my mind. I swat it away. Don't be dramatic...

The markings travel from the very back of his head to the slope of his fringe and spread in a sideways almond shape before joining again and dragging down his nose, through his mouth and ending with a point above his chin. They also spread almost like the wings of a butterfly towards his temples, curving down to his mandibles a little like vines.

As for his attire, he has dark maroon clothes. A silver ring around the middle of his carapace. Two vertical narrow black lines either side of his torso with a very thin outer silver boarder on both lines. Two thick silver dashes across above and below his 'knees' with a black filling. Do turian's even have knees? I don't know, maybe I'll ask on my way out of Omega.

Then again, that's probably not a good idea. Omega isn't the best place to ask such a personal question... They'll take offence and the next thing that will happen is that my head will no longer be attached to my body. Yikes. Definitely not asking now.

His narrowing icy blue eyes dash left and right as they examine something on his omni-tool, mandibles twitching in annoyance as his talon works on the device I have yet to look at up close. He looks intimidating and so very tall. Probably around six two compared to my little five six. _Jesus Christ_. But at least he doesn't have a gun, I guess I can still run away if he just looks at me with a glare...

Well... beggers can't be choosers...

When I step out with a sigh to make my way over to him, my shoulder is all of a sudden yanked backwards out of thin air, hauling me back behind the wall as I scream out in surprise. My back is unwillingly and forcefully slamming against the metal wall, a stringing pain shooting up my spine and the back of my head. My breath is being knocked out of me as I become winded.

When I look up at who grabbed me I can see a drell, big black eyes glaring at me as he whips out a gun and shoves it in my face, causing my expression to grow very concerned in fear. Oh no. No. No. No. _No!_ I don't want to die! I just want to get home!

"Give me your credit chip!" He demands sternly, eyes turning into slits. I blanch, hands trembling in terror. Crap. I don't have any credits. Is he going to kill me anyway? Will he even believe me? "_Now!_"

"I don't have any!" I attempt to keep my voice strong but it so obviously wavers and conveys how I really feel. He doesn't look very happy. "Please let me _go_." Yes I just said the most common, cliche thing to the bad guy. I evidently turn into a pathetic little girl when a gun is pointing at my head.

"Then give me what you do have!" He snarls. A shudder rips through me as I rapidly pat down my pockets, I feel my Nokia Lumia, Windows phone and I take it out, consider throwing it at him, before handing it over in hopes he lets me live. That's all I have in my pockets.

"And the necklace." His freaky eyes flicker to the piece of jewelry that hangs on my neck.

"It's just a cheap piece of crap, you don't need it!" I almost plead. There's nothing more I want to do than run, but that's a tad difficult when there's a _gun_ pointing at my head. It's not like I have a lot of options here. I'm treading on thin ice.

"_Now_." He sneers, midnight coloured eyes glowering at me intensely. He shoves the gun against my face to strike fear into me. He's doing a good job of it.

A bitter sadness enters my heart now. The locket belongs to my mother. Reluctance restrains me, then the attachment to my life overrides my sentimental value as I move my shaking hands to unclasp it before forcing myself to hold it out. He snatches it and roughly puts it in his pocket with no care. The sight causes anger to boil inside of me, but it quickly evaporates when he raises the weapon towards me.

"No hard feelings." He says at my expression of horror with an additional casual shrug.

The explosion of a firearm echoes and bounces on the metal walls. My heart jumps and I stare at him with wide eyes. A sudden hot, white, _burning_ explosion of pain shoots through my arm. A scream of immense pain rips through my wide open mouth and drags in the air until my throat is sore. Through my tearful, blurry vision as I stumble backwards onto the ground I can see him sprinting away. I tightly hold onto my wound in reflex while clenching my eyes shut. Jesus-son of a-shit on a cracker-_hell!_ This hurts so fucking much.

Taking my hand away, I see the blood. At the sight of the said thick and dark liquid flowing out of my shoulder, confusion seeps into me for a split second as I stare at the wound like it isn't real. Oh my god... what... am I... am I actually _shot_? That bastard _shot_ me? Wha-!?

A freaking drell_... _from a _video game_ by the name of '_Mass Effect'_... bloody _shot me_.

Just..._ holy shit _at this bloody day.

Then pretty fast, panic pierces me as I start to profusely bleed out. Oh god... oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Am I gonna die? Please tell me I'm not going to god damned die. I want to peacefully go on my deathbed when I'm some sweet old lady loved by family. My mind swims frantically as I look around with my clouded vision to search for a doctor happening to be on Omega coincidentally being where I am. But this isn't some fantasy where I'm magic and can do whatever I want when I want.

My hand slaps against the metal wall over by the side, doing my best to keep on my feet. The beat of my heart is abnormally faster, pulsing almost violently in my ears. It reminds me of a ticking bomb, about to go off any minute. There's tension in my body, my trembling knees are struggling to support me and my hand slips down the wall as I weakly fall to the ground.

I start to attempt dragging myself on the ground like a crawling baby, trying to desperately haul my body across the floor of dirt and grime. The more I struggle and fight against fainting, the faster I find black spots flooding through my eyes. My breathing is heavy by the time I crawl around the wall and fall to the ground with a loud cry of pain while clutching my shoulder. Oh my god, this fucking _hurts_.

To think I'm going to die in another universe. I can't die now, especially on the slums known as Omega. My body will probably be sold for my organs to the black market or eaten by some vile, rabid pyjaks. I don't even know why the hell I'm here- _how_ I'm here. What that freaky, eerie prothean statue has done. Not to mention I'm absolutely terrified of dying, the fear of the unknown is automatically installed me, scared of the cold nothing in the dark abyss beyond.

I'm homeless. Have pyjak urine on my face. And I'm dying.

I'm also petrified.

This day just doesn't get any better.

It's not like I have any other choice except bleed out, so I find myself crying, shouting to the streets of Omega as strongly as I can. "_Help me_! Call some..." I'm more light-headed now. It's difficult to concentrate. The blood is leaving my body quickly. It's a big shot wound. The crimson, thick liquid is flowing out like Niagara falls and my limbs feel weak suddenly. Shaky. "...one..." I whisper as I distantly finish my sentence.

Then I collapse, everything going dark.

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**Hope you guys enjoyed! Let me know what you guys think! :'D**

**-Next Chapter Hint: _Someone you know will be there._**


	3. Chapter 3

"Urgh..."

The strange, low, grumbling noise drones out in the room. A bright light burning my closed eyelids, causing me to slightly move my head away in discomfort. My brain feels like it's swirling around in my skull. It's like I'm floating, lying there in the slightly cool air. I don't know where I am, but it's so peaceful. No destruction, no pain, no violence. It's just a quiet haven. The light behind my eye lids is really annoying...

Suddenly, like a whoosh of air that slaps me in the face, a trap door beneath me almost violently splits open and I quickly fall through with a high pitched scream of horror. A gasp of oxygen shoots sharply into my mouth, my eyes instantly snapping open as my body lunges up into a sitting position. Memories force themselves back into my mind, I see everything from the prothean statue, the slums of Omega, the drell, being shot-

I look down at my left shoulder wildly in panic but feel a mixture of both confusion and relief flooding through me. A bandage is wrapped there, around the left side of my upper torso. When I move to slide my top down a little to check, a slight stab of pain burns in my shoulder and I wince. Jesus Christ. That hurts.

Then I realize that I'm alive.

I'm alive.

Footsteps catch my attention. Surprise shocks through my veins at the sight of a salarian walking into the room as he fiddles with his omni-tool, tapping and sliding his fingers on the futuristic device.

His black large, amphibian eyes move inside the rim of his maroon-ish coloured lids, scanning across the interactive holographic screen. I trail my gaze on his features, eyeing the long, white face, the thin mouth, and the redish-coral colour on his head and underneath his wide, alien orbs. One of the horns on his head is broken off and he has deep scars lining in his distracted face. For some reason he reminds me a mixture of a frog and lizard. A feeling of irritation flares inside of me when I find that I don't know who he is. The appearance of the salarian is nagging me in the back of my mind, a wave of deja vu washing over me. He really looks familiar. Eerily so.

When he speaks. I try not to let my jaw drop, but it disobeys me.

I realize; it's non other than Mordin Solus.

"Blood pressure normal. Heart rate nominal. Much rest needed. Anesthetic taking place. Body reacting as expected. Everything optimal. Only took four tries-"

"What?" I blurt, but he's still chatting away without paying attention to me. Four tries? And damn, I know he's very talkative in the game but... he's like a freaking hamster on coffee. A nerdy hamster with large glassed that's on permanent caffeine overdose.

"Note to self: make sure next time subject is not allergic to any medical treatment supplements before application." Wait, what? He didn't check? I was dying anyway, but he could have made sure... "Hmm. Other hand. No severe tissue damage. Bullet went straight through. Medi-gel patching up wound smoothly."

I stare at him with eyes of disbelief, not just at what he says. It's Mordin, bloody, Solus. Salarian geneticist, professor, and a former operative of the STG. Holy sh-

He looks up from his omni-tool, sparing me a confirming nod as he finally meets my baffled gaze. "Considered amputation. Arm got infected. Multiple blood transfusions. Lucky. Managed to fix severe nerve damage. No concern required. Nothing to worry about."

No concerned required? I almost lost a fucking arm!

On another note, Mordin Solus. Mordin freaking Solus is standing right there in front of me.

The only thing I seem able of doing is gawking at him like he is the freaking messiah. He blinks his big eyes at me, observing my behaviour which no doubt is strange to him. Before I can open my mouth, he cuts me off as he types something into his omni-tool. "Subject seems confused. Normal. Perhaps in shock? Possible PTSD. Looking for online contacts for counselling."

I'm seriously speechless right now. Is Mordin signing me up for therapy sessions? While that may be ordeal for a person in my position, I don't fancy spending more time on Omega. "You're kidding me. This is a joke? Right?"

He seems affronted, gaze snapping back towards me with wide eyes. "Of course not. PTSD is no laughing matter." He stresses in his defence. I start holding up my hands in surrender but refrain from moving. I wince. Shit. "Advisable to stay still. Less movement the better. Low on medi-gel until tomorrow. Unconscious for two days. Medical treatment wearing off."

I gasp at this surprising news. What? Two days? I've been on this shit hole for two days? It's about time I get the hell out of here before I get mugged or something again. Maybe even worse.

On impulse, when I quickly lean on the left side of the bed as leverage to get off. I attempt to ignore the sharp burn shooting up my left torso but nearly fall to the ground when my grip slips. Mordin catches me and helps me back onto the bed.

"Get much bed rest. Not a request." The doc demands me as his profession kicks in, I don't argue as I groan and lay down. Black spots are swimming in my vision. The room is practically spinning. "Body weak from blood loss. Dizziness expected from medical treatment. Lack of food doesn't help." He inhales, almost as if to catch a breath. "Will order the correct nutritions for human diet. For now. Rest."

"Wait." I stop him from leaving. Might as well keep up appearances of playing stupid. I seriously don't want to explain where I'm from, just the whole thought of dimension jumping gives me a migraine. I don't understand it myself. "What's your name?"

"Dr. Solus." He introduces, the door hissing open as he stands near it. Sounds of pained groans greet me. "Welcome to sick clinic. Not much. But rising."

As soon as the doors close behind him, I turn over to my side and stare at the monitor over by the wall. There's a hologram of a female body, a ring around it lifting up and dropping down. Writing is automatically being written next to it on the monitor, probably analysing my biological health or something. I'm no scientist so I don't know what it's talking about. Not to mention the letters are so small from here I need a telescope to bloody see them.

After musing over what it says, and dealing with the shocking surprise of seeing Mordin I briefly wonder with a burning curiousity who actually brought me here to the clinic. God knows I'm even too weak now with all this medicine pumping through my veins, let alone when I was crawling on the bacteria covered ground in that disgusting alleyway before.

I'm also having trouble digesting the fact that I was shot by a damn drell. Plus the fact I'm in a totally fictional universe. In a video game. I mean, I don't mean to go on about it and swear so much that it would make a sailor blush, but holy shit. The whole concept is just ridiculous and unbelievable. I'm tempted to think I'm in some kind of coma, but to feel pain that vividly? To feel myself dying, it felt too realistic to be a false reality. My brain isn't that talented to make that bloody great an illusion.

Well, on the bright side, who else can say they've been shot by an alien species that looks like a lizard, almost lost their arm and am stuck inside a fictional universe while trapped on a station haven for terrorists?

Exhaustion overcomes me and I close my groggy eyes with a mix between a sigh and a groan. I guess I should get some rest, doctor's orders after all. With a few last thoughts about the recent events, I slowly trail off to sleep.

I wake up to the gorgeous smell of something delicious.

Letting out a groan as I squint my eyes open, I move over to my other side to follow the scent that teases my nostrils. My stomach growls like a vicious animal that's been starved for weeks and I open my eyes searching for the source. My god. What is that delightful aroma?

I see a table next to me, a white bowl with steam flowing into the air on top of it with a spoon being stirred. When I look up at it properly I can see a talon slowly swirling the plastic looking eating appliance. My gaze trails up and with a cry of surprise and a jolt running through my body, I spot a turian.

The same turian from before.

The frustrated one I was going to ask for directions.

"I see you're awake." The turian says without turning around and looking at me. His voice is husky and deep, as their voices in the avian race generally are. But there's something with his voice, it's somehow smooth at the same time, relaxing, yet mischievous and sly. It's slightly eerie. It reminds me of a snake hissing a lullaby.

"Hi." I cringe at my voice being hoarse before raising an eye brow at the turian. I'm a little cautious, but lose some of the tension clenching up in my body. If he wanted to, he would have killed me already. I eye the food. Well, unless he's planning to poison me and watch like a sadistic douche-bag as I choke and slowly die. "...You brought me soup?"

"This recipe won't freeze your body in paralysis and burn your insides." He tells me as he faces me and can see my expression as I look at the soup. His immense, icy blue eyes stare down at me while holding out the hot and yummy looking soup in his talons. His strong gaze is unwavering, I feel a shiver of unease crawl down my spine. "I'm a brilliant chief."

"How can I trust that?" I resort, briefly wishing I can keep my mouth shut. I need to show him I'm not scared, even if I am at this strangers presence in the room. But I still don't want to die. I've survived so far, after a damn shot to the arm and nearly loosing the said limb, I can't give up now.

"You can't. The last person I brought to a med-bay is dead. Had a giant hole in their head." I stare at him then blink in disbelief... Did I hear that right? Surely my luck isn't that bad? His face is pretty blank and he says it so casual-like. I cautiously feel my hand moving to the side of the bed in case I need to run. Suddenly, his cold eyes glint at me. Mandibles twitching in a smirk. He almost looks amused, but the expression is gone before I can confirm.

"They died before I could get them there." There's a pause of thick silence in the air. His ice blue eyes continue to stare at me. A relieved breath sharply exhales out of my mouth and my lungs unclench. Fuck me, that isn't a funny. He definitely hasn't looked in The Classics 101 edition or Jokes for Dummies.

"Don't do that." I sternly tell him, clenching and unclenching my hands on the bed. "That wasn't funny."

"Well, if it makes you feel better about the soup, I wore a frilly, pink apron with butterflies and flowers on it while I cooked it for you.." He places the soup on my lap before I can register and quickly hold onto the bowl to stop it from tipping over and spilling. I look down at it. It seems normal. Veggie soup. My stomach growls at the sight and smell of it. But caution prevents me from eating it.

"You made human soup?" Somehow I don't see this ending well.

"While humming to the radio." I have a fantastic mental image imprinted in my mind of him in the apron, shaking his turian booty to human country music with a fifties styles woman's wig on his head. I grimace, looking at the food with great reluctance. "Will you relax, human? Mordin ordered it from some restaurant. Would have gone there myself but... let's just say the people there aren't fond of turians."

I raise my eye brows.

"Me in particular." He adds, almost with reluctance as he scratches the side of his fringe.

"Where's Mordin?"

"Shopping for undergarments, I don't know." He tells me. I blink a few times with that picture now in my mind and frown. Do salarians even have undergarments? I awkwardly scratch the back of my head before looking over at him again. I purse my lips.

"Why did you help me?"

"Because at the time I felt like being a knight in plated armour to your dying, defenceless damsel in distress." He explains, sitting down next to the bed and crossing his leg over to the other. He slouches back, like he owns the place. "No need to thank me." He gives a 'humble' shrug. "Of course, I could have just let nature taken it's course but I felt like a stroll anyway so I figured 'why not?" He meets my eyes. "Though an apology would be appreciated."

"What? Why?" I'm baffled, irritation spiking. He wants an apology? For what exactly? Nearly dying?

"You got blood over my new suit." He coolly tells me, looking a little annoyed. "Doesn't matter if it's red or not, I can't exactly send this over for dry cleaning. Omega of all places doesn't care about cleanliness. Armour is expensive, you know."

"You didn't need to save me, you know." Even though I am grateful. He just seems to be pushing my buttons a little.

"No, no, of course not! I could have just, as your species say, hopped along by your pathetic, dying body as you gave your last petty breath." I glare. His eyes narrow right back at me at the challenge and I end up looking away. Shit, he can win a glowering match any time. His eyes are so... piercing. It's eerie as fuck.

Great, and now there's a mental image of turians jumping around wearing bunny outfits.. It's quite cute actually, as weird as it sounds. Plated bunnies also come to mind. Aw, I want one now. I probably shouldn't mention it to this guy what I'm thinking about though... Mordin will think I have a concussion and I wasn't even hit on the head.

"Look, I get that turians and humans aren't best friends forever right now, but if this is a xenophobic th-" He starts, not looking too pleased. My eyes widen at the thought and I cut him off.

"No! Of course it isn't!" I almost shout at him. I calm down at the patience on his face and lean back in my bed as I sit up a little. A sigh escapes me. "I'm sorry, I just- I've been through a lot and I'm stressed out. Trust issues right now, you know?"

"Really? And here I thought you were just imagining skinning me alive while tearing off my mandibles." He has... quite the vivid imagination.

"I feel sick just thinking about that, let alone doing it."

"I suppose that tells you that you're not ready to be a surgeon."

"Sure. Cutting up people and poking their organs around sounds like such fun."

"It does, actually." He looks off to the side where all the scalpel, sharp stuff is. I grimace. "Maybe I should become a doctor? Fiddle around and experiment with peoples brains? I always have liked science. Biology has fascinated me in particular." He turns his gaze to me curiously. "Maybe you should be my first patient?"

I blanch. "No thanks."

"That's a shame." He genuinely looks disappointed. I cringe. Fantastic, this is exactly how I wish to spend my time; sitting next to an insane, morbid thinking turian that is showing serial killer tendencies. I'm ecstatic.

"If this soup has some kind of poison, I'm coming back to haunt your arse." Let's just hope the damn Ghostbusters aren't in town... my soul wishes to torture him at least a little bit.

"I know it's good looking and all, but aren't I a little out of your... species?"

"Hey. Crossing species is always fun." I deadpan, getting him back for scaring the hell out of me when I woke up. Horay for being the opposite of a xenophobe. He probably thinks I'm into some freaky shit now.

"You're telling me. The asari are just..." his mandibles twitch. God dammit. It's back-firing. "Magnificent."

"I... don't want to know." I really don't. The dirty images are already burning and imprinting in my brain.

"You never know. Maybe in the future you'll want to hear more about my fantasies in w-"

"No thank you!" I put my hands over my ears with a shake of my head. His mandibles spread in some kind of small sadistic grin. I scowl and remove my hands as I look down at the soup. It still looks hot, but it will get cold and I'm so hungry. I haven't eaten properly for like two days, dammit.

Fuck it.

I pick up the spoon, clench my eyes shut, then sip the soup from it with great hesitance. The taste is... nice. It's a little... strange. But it still tastes good. Some form of vegetables and herbs with a... meaty hint. Shrugging, I continue to consume it, eventually it begins to fill me up and I place the finished bowl on the table, stretching and yawning with a relaxed, diminutive smile.

"That wasn't half bad."

"Apparently eating the meat from your own kind is actually healthy for you and by your reaction, tasty too." He deadpans and I freeze, then slowly look at him. Please, god, tell me he's joking. "What?"

"You're not serious are you?"

"Do I look serious?" He really does. Very severe. Genuinely so. I hope to god he isn't. I don't want to add 'cannibalism' to the list of things I need to talk about in the therapy session I'm having when I get out.

"Yes."

"Well, you clearly can't read people like a book then." He says. "It was a joke."

"Fuck me." I sigh in relief, leaning my head against the pillow as I lay down with a huff of breath escaping me. My eyes close. Thank god.

"Advisable to wait before intercourse. Especially cross-species coitus." My eyes snap open again at the familiar sound of Mordin Solus as he walks in and I sit up, wincing at the pain. "From personal observation... rest is still needed. New medication has arrived. Should be good as new after a few days. Can see the turian is charming company." He inhales and glances between the two of us, professional mode kicking in. Hell, is there a time when it isn't on? "Not wise to engage in relations as of now."

My eyes widen and I look at the turian. Wait, he thought-? Oh shit! "No, Dr. Solus you have it wrong, I wasn't implying-"

"No judgement." He cuts me off. "Natural for human female hormones to feel the need to mate at young age. Strange partner choice. Interesting. But strange. Still, no judgement here. Heart wants what it wants."

"Seriously I-"

"Did you eat the required soup I retrieved?" He interrupts me, either changing the topic for the sake of my cheeks burning so obviously or not hearing me over his own rambling theories. "Important. Only consumed paste through tubes during unconsciousness. Will feel weak. Need to eat."

"Yeah, I have." I pinch the bridge of my nose, still embarrassed and flustered. Why does Mordin have to think I want to have 'relations' with the psychotic turian? Later God knows that the salarian is going to give me leaflets on how vital it is not to injest. For fuck sake.

"Can leave soon. As long as wound is appropriately cared for. Will give free medication. Must apply three times a day. Or will be sore." Mordin turns to turian, looking at him almost like a stern father. Oh god. "Needs rest. No time for mating ritual. Must sleep."

"Hey, sure; doctor's orders." His face twitches, mandibles lifting in a small smirk. His cold eyes gleam in almost malice. I groan. Why is he encouraging him? "My name is Silas, by the way."

"Screw you." I mutter, wanting him just to leave me to my misery.

"Now, now. You heard the doc." Mother fu-! "Try not to choke on the amount of blushing you're doing. It'd be a real shame if after all my efforts you would still pitifully die anyway." His voice is almost a monotone, like he doesn't actually care if I do choke on my embarrassment. Though a hint of annoyance is laced in his tone, probably because I might have wasted his time.

He and Mordin talk a bit more before I hear the hissing of a door and Mordin lecturing me in the background about too much movement will cause aching in certain muscles. I groan, shoving my face into the pillow. I hate Mordin right now.

I just wanna go home.

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**Hey guys! Thanks for all the reviews :'3**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter, it's such fun to annoy and torture my character (':**

**Next Chapter: We're gonna follow the virtual snail trail.**

**!Review!**

**~E**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry it's been a while. I've been ill (still ill) and busy with my deadlines for college. But I've handed stuff in now so I shouldn't have to wait as long to update. Hopefully. Enjoy :'3**

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Thank god for Mordin Solus.

Despite his new fascination with drowning me in information and leaflets about having intercourse with another species, his ever helpful profession in medicine has greatly improved the wound in my shoulder. It's a little stiff and he has advised me, once again adding that I need to wait until further relations with the turian stranger, not to make too much movement. Not that I am. I'm not exactly doing cartwheels and somersaults around my sick bed. Pretty sure I'd be incredibly dizzy and in pain if I even attempt at it. Sure, I've done gymnastics in school which has made me flexible and able to do such things but I'm definitely no Lara Croft. I'm also confident those things are very difficult with a bad shoulder.

I can only imagine if I bumped into Garrus Vakarian, I'd be internally giggling about the reach and flexibility joke. Maybe I'll throw in a sly comment about my flexibility and fluster him, knowing me though I think I'd just make it awkward between us and he will take it the wrong way. Yeah, awkwardly flirting with a turian who'd take it in an awkwardly wrong way, I don't see this working out.

Anyway, the weird turian who saved my life hasn't visited again. Probably off Omega by now, can't say I'm not envious if he is. When I woke up, Mordin mentioned to me that I can leave today. I understand that he needs more room for other sick and injured people but I selfishly consider acting ill like I did when I skipped school so I can stay. But I'm facing the music and waltzing with reality. Mordin is a professional doctor, surely he can tell when someone is milking it? He probably deals with people trying to stay in their warm bed all the time instead of being forced on the slums of Omega again. Any place in Omega is a slum, even here, but it's a lot better and safer than being vulnerable out in the open.

When Mordin gave me the supply of medicine and politely told me in his own way to pack my bags and get out of the room, of course I agreed. Reluctantly, but seeing his point. Not like I have any bags. I don't even have anything to sell to the Black Market since I got mugged so that plan is down the bloody drain. It's not like I can sell the medi-gel Mordin gave me either if I want to survive... _if_ I survive on this hell hole...

Not being able to afford thinking like a pessimist, I sigh and cup the liquid tightly in my palms before splashing my face with the cool water to keep a clear head. No towel, I leave my face damp and exit the cheap bathroom. I don't bump into Mordin on my way out unfortunately. I even asked his assistant but he told me that he was preforming surgery so I asked him to thank Mordin again for me. Also adding in a thanks to the talkative salarian for washing off the pyjak urine.

The doors hiss shut behind me and I'm greeted with the disgusting smell of the slums once more. Unpleasant looking people are leaning on the wall to the far right and I hope to a God I don't believe in that I don't have to have a confrontation with them. They're seemingly aggressive batarians in some sort of gang.

Fuck my life.

Luckily for me, I'm not obligated to go that way and they haven't seemed to notice me so I slip away to the markets. This gives me some form of relief, considering luck and I don't get along. It seems my bad luck is backing off a little bit. At least it seems that way until I keep having to go around, practically begging for a job everywhere I go, I'm denied by a bunch of arseholes, xenophobic aliens, people who are too full on staff and people who have no use for a pitiful, poor human girl with no experience in working here.

As desperation sinks it's claws in, I head over to a noodle stand and open my mouth, only to close it at the look of revulsion the turian gives me. I don't even bother asking and walk away with a mumbling simple, "never mind."

I even try for a waitress job, offer to just clean and mop the floor or wipe the tables down for the customers, but they don't want me either. Getting work here is proving increasingly difficult, especially if I don't even have qualifications. Granted, it's Omega and not a lot of people with good backgrounds in colleges and universities would actually be here, but it's still the unfair slums that don't give a shit if you're poor and living on the streets. Fucking Omega.

Panic burns through my veins as I'm suddenly grabbed by the wrist and yanked back. My wide eyes shoot up and look into the grey hooded eyes staring at me eerily. It's safe to say I'm creeped out as fuck. A feeling of unease settles within my stomach and a sense of danger crawls in the back of my mind, telling me one of the wisest things I have ever concluded in my life; run_ the _fuck_ out of there_.

He's towering over me intimidatingly, looking well over six foot. He looks in his mid-thirties. His pale brown hair combed neatly to the side, his shirt is tucked snugly inside his trousers. The stranger has a square jaw, the classic kind Superman is commercialized all the time. His teeth are too perfect, baring down at me in a wide Joker looking grin. As I look down at the tight grip of his long, slender pale fingers, one thing is for sure, I'm _not_ becoming his fucking Harley Quinn.

"Hello." He greets softly. I'm concerned for my safety as soon as he opens his mouth. His eerily calm voice and false sounding gentle tone sends a chill down my spine and my stomach clenches anxiously as my eyes flicker to the tight grip on my arm.

"Sorry, do I know you?" I ask, spreading a small, fake, tight feeling smile on my lips. I'm a generally polite person, but if he makes one wrong move I'm so fucking kicking him in the balls and I'm running the hell out of here.

"No." He softly speaks again, smile decreasing slightly. I clench my jaw, pulling on my arm a little, he clenches his grip and I glance around. No one is around. It's like a ghost town. I even want that psychopathic turian here right now. Bad, pessimistic thoughts soon plague my mind. He can easily kill me or... _worse_. I'm not far from the markets. If I run, I can loose him in there.

"Let go of me." I demand firmly, letting go of the fake, pleasant tone and giving in to the fear of something horrible happening to me. His grey eyes darken at the words, like a bad storm forming. My breath catches in my throat when he slowly reaches to his inside pocket, smile vanishing and features forming into an emotionless blank. His eyes glint with malice. Obviously, he doesn't want to play dress up and have a fancy tea party.

_Shit_.

"I can't do that."

It happens so fast. My leg lunges up, knee aiming towards his man-parts. Except his reflexes are quicker than I predict, he lets go of me so he can swiftly dodge and whips out something that gleams brightly in the red glow of the lights, I feel something sting on my cheek and recoil back in shock. His face is grinning so manically, that for a moment the blood in my veins freezes to ice just from the horror he inflicts in me. But then as he takes a step forward, it snaps me out of my brief trance and I turn, breaking out into a sprint. Shit. Shit. _Shit_.

Terror pumps in my body as I gasp and pant, legs stretching out as far as they can in order to escape from the seemingly incredibly creepy, mentally troubled man. I don't run for long, being tackled to the ground by a heavy object. I cry out pain, the noise sounding strained. I roll with the object, fighting to escape. My arms punch forward, legs flailing against the heavy weight like a desperate little dragonfly trying to get away from cruelty of having it's wings picked apart.

I scream as loud as I can, only to be cut off by a huge hand. I struggle even more now, my shoulder hurting again, pressing my knee against his chest and pushing. He doesn't move. While he's pinning my hands against the ground, I plunge my foot hard against his manhood, which he grunts at and loosens his grip. I kick again and he drops a black, ragged edge make-shift looking knife next to my face. I spit in his face when he looks at me furiously and he flinches, taking away a hand to swipe it off his eyes. I break free slightly and in the struggle, my foot kicks him in the face on accident.

I then think it a serendipity as I hear the sickening _crack_ of his nose and he lets out a rather loud cry, I feel his grip loosen as he releases me to instinctively grab his now broken nose in pain. I slip away, pick up the knife and keep running until I'm near the market once more. I can hear the chatter of aliens, people and feel hope rise in my chest. My breath shoots in and out viciously, pumping my air so fast and hard that it's painful.

As I run into the markets, doubling over and resting my hands on my knees while I struggle to catch my breath. No one looks over or pays any attention to the human girl who just sprinted through. It disgusts me to think this is a normal occurrence. Some girl in potential danger is ignored and treated like a ghost. She- or well, _I_ could have been killed. No one on Omega seems to give a shit about the crime happening on this dump. I want to get out of here. Off this station- even better; out of this damn universe.

I still don't feel safe, so I keep jogging. When I glance over my shoulder and turn a corner I should have expected to bump into something. But my paranoid brain obviously wasn't paying attention to the front. I'm nearly winded as I stumble back and my eyes snap to face whatever I have slammed into, anxious that it can be the Psycho who just tried to kill me.

Psycho is right, but it's not what I expect.

I'm no expert at alien facial expressions, but the familiar psycho that saved my life seems to be annoyed. His mandibles twitching, his arms are now crossing over his chest. I really don't think he wants a hug of greeting from his 'favourite' damsel in distress. "So you did miss me?" His eyes flicker over me, but not in the way that the creep did. It has a more curious, irritated demeanour. "I see that this time you lack a bleeding hole in your body."

"I think you're more concerned if I get blood on your precious suit rather than my health." I weakly resort, still feeling a bit shaky from being attacked.

"The condition of my suit is more vital than your life." He says, almost seeming affronted. "Speaking of which, you never did repay me for saving it. I sacrificed the cleanliness of my brand new suit after all, you _owe_ me."

I can't tell if he's actually joking. The look on his face is serious but like I have already stated, I'm no alien expressions expert. Still, he doesn't look like he's joking. He does have a valid point though, he saved my life. As much as I don't want to admit it, I _do_ owe him. But I'm not doing anything like be bait for varren or a thrasher maw. If he even suggests doing something like that, I'm running. _Again_.

"Can't I just thank you for being the good, nice guy you are and we go our separate ways?"

His serious, unamused expression doesn't even twitch. "Even if you were an adorable little child that just picked a flower for me, it would still be no."

"You're heartless."

"Nothing personal." He merely shrugs.

I cross my arms over my chest, trying not to glare at him. "So what do you want? It's not like I have anything to offer you. I have no credits due to the arseholes around here that won't hire me. I have no turian food. Nothing of value. No... _anything_."

"A tiny little errand." Is his response.

"What does this _little_ errand require of me?" I'm cautious as I ask, narrowing my eyes at the weird turian.

"Just a little tinkering with your omni-tool." He tells m. As he uncrosses his arms, He attempts to 'reassure' me. "Its _perfectly_ _safe_. You won't have a missing limb at the end of it... Probably."

"_Probably_?" I nearly screech, liking this errand less and less. He raises an eyebrow. "I don't even _have_ an omni-tool." I sheepishly admit. I feel silly for sharing this because surely everyone in the Mass Effect realm has one. I feel like the kid in school that never has the coolest things and is always the last one to have it. "What part of '_I have nothing_' don't you get?"

"Steal one, there's plenty in the market. How about from that krogan over there?"

I turn to see where he gestures and my eyes widen dramatically at the vicious, gang-member looking krogan who has plenty of scars and a missing eye. Invisible, gigantic danger signs are pointing at him in my head, alarm bells ringing when he glances at me and sees me staring at him with a dropping jaw. His terrifying remaining eye narrows and I quickly turn away, not wanting to be squished like a bug. I look at the turian with a look of disbelief. "You're kidding, right?"

_Please_. Tell me he's kidding. I've already been attacked twice. Pissed on by a pyjak. I _really _don't want to add running away from angry krogans to the list.

"Nope."

Okay. I think it's time to commence the running. "There is _no way in hell_ I'm stealing a bloody omni-tool off a fucking _krogan_." I furiously spit at him, making sure to lower my voice so the said target can't hear me.

"Have more faith, it's not hard."

I swear, there is seriously a sadistic gleam in those terrifying, piercing eyes. I just got away from a fucking insane, murdering paedophile. There's no way I'm risking being chased by a beserking krogan. The odds of survival are _very_, incredibly, _immensely_ low. "_Not hard_? Are you fucking _high_?"

"I do admit, red sand is good for the pores." I stare. Is he serious right now? Do turians _even have_ pores? "Relax Miss Nun, my mind, body and soul is completely drug free. Now, back to the krogan. It'll be fine. The worst that can happen is he'll gouge out your eyes and slam you about like a rag doll. That doesn't sound so bad, right?"

"Is that a trick question?"

"If you're going to be such a lazy, whiny baby about it, _I'll_ do it." He rolls his eyes, narrowing them in annoyance as he starts to brush by my shoulder. I snap out my hand, eyes wide with panic.

"Don't be stupid! He's a _krogan_. Do _you_ want _your_ eyes gouged out and to be thrown about like a rag doll?" I ask him. The only response I get is a glare. An icy one that sends a chill down my spine. His piercing gaze drifts to the grip on his arm and I instantly let go.

"Relax. I'll be fine."

With that he waltz's gracefully to the shadows with a darkening look in his eye. I sigh and turn around, crossing my arms over my chest with a childish, sulking pout. Fine, let him become brutally blind and get beaten up. See if I care. In fact, that'll be good for me, to be rid of him so I don't have to return the 'debt' I owe him.

It's been a while, so long that I start to wonder if he's still here. I tap my foot anxiously against the ground, wondering if I'm too trusting to just wait here or if I'm just a doormat. I'm getting tempted to move, some shady people are roaming around. Even though this is a public area, I have no doubt that maybe the creep is lingering in the shadows somewhere. Unease sinks in my stomach, apprehension crawls across the back of my neck and raises goosebumps as I think about the way he looked at me. The scary smile, the eerie almost blank looking eyes as he held tightly onto my arm. Paranoia tells me that he's among in the shoppers and sellers, watching me.

I glance around, getting a little perturbed and panicky now. People rush passed me. Everything seems to be going faster. My heart is racing, my eyes are wildly looking in every direction. A horde of people are spinning around me like a tornado, the sound of chatter is suddenly getting quiet, being zoned out as soon as I set eyes on a figure in the distance. Steel eyes stare at me, causing every cell in my body to jump from fear. The only sound I can hear is my heartbeat, pulsing in my ears. Black spots fade in around my eyes, blanking everyone else out except the two of us. My clammy hands tighten the more I look into the grey, stormy eyes of the stalker. The red glow of the lights are only illuminating his body. In the dark, his eyes are lighting up, like they're synthetic. I swear that his steel eyes are gleaming in malice. A slow, creepy smile slides across his lips like a snake and simply he raises his hand, pressing a single finger to his lips in a shushing motion as he slinks back into the shadows. Glowing eyes vanishing with the rest of him.

That does it, I'm not waiting around for him to crawl through the crowd of people to drag me into an alleyway. As soon as I turn, however, I slam into something. A scream rips out of my throat, and I'm not the type to scream, as I fight off the sudden wall. I punch my hand forward, only for it to be caught effortlessly by a hand. My eyes snap open when I realize I shut them and as soon as I see the familiar face of Silas, I stop struggling and he blinks down at me.

"What happened to not being xenophobic?" Is his reply to my fighting him.

I'm breathing heavily, wide eyes staring up at him. My knees feel shaky, my hand hurting slightly in his grip. He releases me without a second thought and crosses his arms over his chest. A blank, stoic look is spread across his face. I can't read turian expressions that well, but if I don't know any better I'd say he looks confused. But, again, I can't read turian expressions.

"I-I'm not!" I quickly correct, not wanting him to take it the wrong way. I'm a little freaked out. Hell, who wouldn't be? I don't fancy another trip from Mr. Stalker. For all I know, he could want to kill me, then add me to his doll collection or something fucked up like that. Or maybe that's just my morbid mind.

"Well, it can't be my stunning good looks, can it?"

"I was just..." I hesitate, then sigh and rub the back of my neck sheepishly. "It was nothing. I thought I saw something." Yeah, just a possible stalker-rapist-serial killer. Nothing at all to worry about.

He looks at me for a bit, his piercing eyes unblinking. I shift uncomfortably and he shrugs. "Well, while you were so busy contemplating your insanity, I 'borrowed' the omni-tool off our little friend."

"What took you so long?" I ask, hugging myself as I glance around again. I _don't_ want another run in with the nut job and act out the escape scene again.

"I accompanied a rather... feisty asari for a short... _conversation_." There's a glint in his eyes, his mandibles twitch into what seems the turian equivalent of a smirk.

I look at him in disbelief. He was... ? _Really_? All while I was standing out here in the open? An easy target to all the shady thugs around here. "_Dude_, what the hell?! Was this _really_ the time?"

"I have my own obligations to fill, kid." He casually shrug, then mocks me by raising his talons and using quotation marks. "'_Adult stuff to fill'._" Okay. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. Don't need that mental image.

"I'm not a kid. I'm seventeen years old." I correct him with a clenching jaw, curling my hands into fists I shake my head. "And I don't even wanna know what _obligations_ that you need to... fill."

"Such an innocent mind." He muses, then scratches his chin. "Have you reconsidered the brain surgery? I was conducting up some ideas to unlock more intelligence in your brain. After a bit of gore, mess and blood, of course." Oh god. I think he's actually serious.

"Uh- no." I swat him, taking a step back as I guard my head with my hands. "No touching my brain. Stop with the zombie tendencies please."

"'Zombie tendencies...?'"

Of course he doesn't know what zombies are. "Just... uh... just keep away from my skull. It would be much appreciated."

Once again this evening, he casually shrugs. "Can't blame a man for trying."

"For having an unhealthy obsession with brains and wanting to cut open heads? Sure, whatever you say." I mutter, walking along side him as he starts walking somewhere.

I hope this _favour_ is over and done with soon.

* * *

**How do you guys like Silas? What do you think of him? Was this chapter okay? Also, I don't think I'll be continuing Insanity Effect. I think this version is more mature, better paced, better main character, more realistic, y'know? Hopefully you guys agree and will read this one instead. **

**Review! :'3**

**XOXO**

**~E**


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